2003 Mt. Rainier to the Pacific Relay

Salty dawgs

Published

December 1, 2003

Mt. Rainier to the Pacific RelayMt. Rainier, WAJuly 25, 2003

The loneliness of the long distance runner is something we runners know a lot about. But, once in a while, we have the opportunity to participate in an event where the team is paramount, where you succeed or fail together, and your goals are limited to the level of the slowest runner.

On July 25, Washington State hosted such an event: the 15th Annual Mt. Rainer to the Pacific Relay. Rainier to Pacific is 153 miles long, made up of 33 legs varying from 2.9 to 6.9 miles. For those teams that do not make the lottery entry into the popular Hood to Coast Relay, this is a wonderful, well-organized alternative.

As a Senior Chief Petty Officer in the Navy with eight year’s of experience in this relay, I had the opportunity to put together an all-Navy active duty mixed team. The Navy Salty Dawgs were to be anchored by two Trident submarine captains and included three other submariners, who do most of their training either on treadmills or by circling the missile compartment where 18 laps equals a mile.

The Pacific Northwest is know for its lush green old growth forests and snow capped mountains—the result of "interesting" weather. Race day broke clear and sunny with temperatures in the high 80s to low 90s. Unseasonably hot for Washington. What was happening? Global warming? Or was the California influence creeping north with more than high tech industry?

What makes relays so wonderfully unique is that you are running three races over two days. You are also running over different terrain and, even stranger, you are running at three different times of day. My first leg was at 11:30 p.m. along a two-lane country road in and out of the small town of Tenino. It was a crazy and unique experience, running through the middle of the night with a flashlight in hand to light my path for pot holes and night critters, as well as to warn the oncoming cars. I could only imagine what some of the drivers were thinking when they saw me coming, flashlight bouncing along.

The temperatures had cooled to the low 60s, the skies were crystal clear with a crescent moon, and the heavens so full of stars that I turned off my flashlight and was transfixed by what lay above my head. Too much so—I almost stepped off the narrow shoulder and ended my relay two miles into my first leg. It shook me back to what my goal was: catch an officer from the USS Ohio who had started about two minutes ahead of me and get other "roads kills"—slang for passing another runner during the relay. Everything was clicking, and after passing my intended prey, the rest of the 6.64 miles went by smoothly and I ended up plus two on "kills."

With a solid two hours sleep on the parking lot pavement of the local high school, we set off on our second set of legs at 4 a.m. The second time around was a little harder for everyone. Being cramped up in a van, sleep deprived, and fueled only by a few bagels, oranges, bananas, or health bars was taking its toll. But, running along winding rich farmland roads, watching the sunrise, and the fog slowly lift off the fields was a site well worth being awake for. My second leg did not have the same effortless feeling that my first leg had. Only half the distance, the effort felt harder to keep the same pace.

The third and final legs were the most difficult to prepare for. With two legs down, the body was feeling the strain from the previous miles and continued lack of sleep from the night before. Even though each runner was only running a total of 13-16 miles, splitting them into three separate races with six hours in between doesn’t really let your legs recover. The only thing that got us going as we started the last set at 9 a.m. was knowing it would be over after a couple of miles, with the final leg of the race leading 4.6 miles along the packed sand of Ocean Shores Beach. We crossed the finish line as a team, joining the spectators and tourists in their amazement that we, and all the other teams, just ran from Mt. Rainer to the Pacific Ocean.